In
lamenting the imperfections of early America, liberals overlook the
enormous toll our founders paid for our independence. In
listening to liberals, one might guess freedom popped up like toast
one blissful morning while the colonists were reading their New York
Times, rather than torn from the hold of the most powerful country
on earth.
When the British marched on Lexington in April of 1775, there had
been much talk about man's rights and the King's oppressions, and it
rallied a dispirited country to the cause of freedom. But with
the British determined to crush the rebellion, our inalienable
rights needed someone willing to fight for them on the battlefield.
Fortunately for all of us, we had such a man in George Washington.
A month after Lexington, colonial leaders met in Philadelphia
and unanimously picked Washington, then 43, to lead a collection of
zealous farmers against the invincible British. If
"opportunity" is a polite word for a dirty job, how many
of us would relish Washington's opportunity?
But he accepted his commission graciously, refusing any pay except
expenses, and vowed to "exert every power" he possessed in
the service of Congress "and for support of the glorious
cause" of freedom. [1]
Still, colonial leaders seemed more fearful of Washington's success
than his almost certain defeat. If he beat the British, what
would stop him from taking over the government and establishing an
American monarchy?
"[W]hen we assumed the soldier we did not lay aside the
citizen," he told a delegation in New York while en route to
Boston, trying to soothe their apprehensions. The army, he
said, would return to their private lives when the war was over.
[2] At Cambridge he repeated his theme of citizen
soldiers when he told the troops they were defending freedom
"against violence actually offered," and they would lay
down their arms when the threat of aggression was removed, "but
not before." [3]
In summer of 1776 the British decided to evacuate Boston and set up
operations in New York City, from which they could strategically
snuff the uprising. While the British waited for reinforcements,
Washington brought his main army to New York City to defend it.
Before hostilities broke out, the British made a mock gesture at
peace. They sent a letter to Washington addressed to
"George Washington, Esq." Washington refused to
receive it, because of the publicly degrading manner in which it was
addressed.
So the British tried again, this time with a letter carried by
Adjutant General Patterson and addressed to "George Washington,
etc., etc., etc." Patterson said he hoped the et
ceteras would remove any obstacles to communications. Washington
said they didn't, not remotely, whereupon Patterson said the British
were willing to offer pardons. "For what?"
Washington demanded, saying they had committed no faults and needed
no pardons. [4]
The British put aside their insolence and attacked the Americans in
August of 1776, easily outclassing them. American casualties
were heavy, confusion was rampant, and militia especially were
abandoning the ranks in large numbers. Finding it more prudent
to fight another day, Washington removed his troops from New York
and retreated through New Jersey, with the British giving chase and
some of his countrymen hurling ridicule.
By early December the American forces had fled to the Delaware
River, crossing into Pennsylvania near Newtown. With winter
setting in, the British decided to quarter in various towns and
outposts on the Jersey side of the Delaware.
To British leaders like Sir William Howe and Lord Cornwallis, the
conflict had been more of a hunt than a war. They would soon
bag their quarry, but they were in no hurry. Howe decided to
return to New York for an affair with the wife of his commissary of
prisoners, Joshua Loring. [5] In his absence, Howe's
troops, acting against his stated orders, embarked on a terror
campaign against New Jersey residents.
The situation was grim for the American cause. Washington's
army had been driven ignominiously from New York, and great numbers
of Americans were accepting Howe's offer of a pardon. His
troops were decimated by disease and desertion. The ones
remaining were tattered and poorly fed. He pleaded to Congress
for clothing, saying that some were "entirely naked and most so
thinly clad as to be unfit for service." [6] Other
than some militia from Philadelphia, his appeals for troops from
Jersey and Pennsylvania yielded nothing.
By December 20th, Washington estimated his force at 7,600, about
half that of the British. But enlistments would end on
December 31 for most of his men, leaving him with no more than 1,400
troops. The British knew about the expirations and had little
doubt the American well would shortly run dry.
Realizing the stakes, the man liberals today no longer honor decided
on a bold move. He devised a plan to surprise the Hessian
mercenaries at Trenton on the morning after Christmas, hoping to
catch them sleeping from the previous night's revelry. A
victory would recharge the troops and the American people, and would
help him raise the army he needed.
Around 6:00 p.m. on Christmas Day, a force of 2,400 men began
crossing the Delaware at McKonkey's Ferry, north of Trenton. One
of Washington's aides recorded in his journal: "It is fearfully
cold and raw and a snowstorm is setting in. The wind is
northeast and beats in the faces of the men. It will be a
terrible night for the soldiers who have no shoes. Some of
them have tied old rags around their feet; others are barefoot, but
I have not heard a man complain." [7]
By 3:00 a.m. the troops were on the Jersey side and the artillery
was now on its way over. Washington stood on the bank, wrapped
in a cloak, superintending the landings. An hour later they
began their eight-mile hike to Trenton in two columns by different
routes, while sleet pelted them.
Washington "pounced upon the Hessians like an eagle upon a
hen," and the enemy surrendered after a short fight. [8]
He took his troops back to Pennsylvania, let them recover,
then crossed over to Trenton again on the night of December 30th,
with plans to attack the British at Princeton. The following
day, when enlistments were up, he rode before his troops on
horseback and pleaded with them to stay a month longer. He
commended their bravery and told them "the present is
emphatically the crisis which is to decide our destiny." [9]
He managed to persuade some of his troops to stay for another six
weeks, and with the financial aid of Robert Morris, promised them a
bonus of $10 in gold coin for volunteering.
Meanwhile, the rebel victory had panicked the British. Cornwallis
hastily gathered his men from across New Jersey and brought them to
Trenton to confront Washington on January 2, 1777. Believing
he had the Americans trapped, Cornwallis held off attacking while
his exhausted troops recovered. As night fell, the two armies
faced each other, separated only by a small creek.
Washington had no desire to challenge Cornwallis's superior numbers.
Leaving campfires burning to deceive the British, Washington
slipped away and headed to Princeton. At daybreak, as he
reached the outskirts of Princeton, he engaged British troops that
were leaving to assist at Trenton. The Americans fought well
at first, but began to scatter when more redcoats arrived.
Washington then rode into the middle of the fray, between the
advancing enemy and his retreating troops, hollering at his men to
come back. Moved by his bravery, they returned and drove the
British back into town, where for the next hour some of the most
savage fighting in the war took place, with Washington right in the
thick of it. It ended in a rout for the Americans.
A young American officer wrote to his wife: "I shall never
forget what I felt in Princeton on [Washington's] account, when I
saw him brave all the dangers of the field and his important life
hanging as it were by a single hair with a thousand deaths flying
around him. Believe me, I thought not of myself." [10]
So brilliant was Washington's maneuver at Trenton that when the
British heard the reports of artillery from Princeton, they believed
it to be thunder, even though it was the dead of winter. The
quarry the British had relished hunting had proved to be a fox.
The victories in New Jersey kept the struggle going and helped
Washington get some of the support he needed. Still ahead of
him was Valley Forge, Benedict Arnold, and the long march to
Yorktown.
When victory was finally secured, Americans everywhere exulted him
and many thought he should be king. But he kept his promise
and retired his commission, saying "I didn't fight George III
to become George I." [11]
Apparently, Washington wasn't sophisticated enough to parse his
original promise into a new meaning, by pontificating on what the
meaning of "is" is. He simply believed in freedom,
risked his life for it, and won, making liberty as a birthright a
reality. While he didn't secure freedom for all men, he
secured the foundations of a system in which all men could be free.
The calendar hanging over my desk notes Lincoln's birthday, Ash
Wednesday, and Valentine's Day--along with the federally-invented
President's Day--as significant dates for February. The
importance of February 22 is nowhere mentioned, and that's a
disgrace.
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References
1. http://earlyamerica.com/lives/gwlife/index.html -- Life of
George Washington by David Ramsay
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Scheer, George F. and Rankin, Hugh F., "Rebels &
Redcoats: The American Revolution Through the Eyes of Those Who
Fought and Lived It," Da Capo Press, 1957, p. 208
6. Ibid, p. 209
7. Ibid., p. 212
8. Ibid., p. 212
9. Ibid., p. 216
10. Ibid., p. 219
11. Source unknown
http://www.army.mil/cmh-pg/books/amh/AMH-03.htm -- The American
Revolution